


fire and ice

by sarufish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incest, M/M, Michifer - Freeform, adam!michael, nick!lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 12:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2192223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarufish/pseuds/sarufish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael's always burning up and Lucifer has cold hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fire and ice

For as long as Lucifer could remember, which was a very long time, Michael and he had been opposites. Michael was everything Lucifer was not, and he wondered how they managed to work so well together. He mused over this while the sleeping archangel curled himself closer around Lucifer. Ah, here was just one example of how they differed. Lucifer thought sleep was superfluous, a waste of time, but mostly he didn’t understand it. Michael, on the other hand, indulged in it when he could, usually when they would steal away from Heaven for a day or two. Lucifer would watch him as he dozed, wondering if Michael dreamed and what he dreamed about. He knew his brother was exhausted from running Heaven, could see it etched on his face, but Michael’s pride wouldn’t let him admit that. Michael watched over everything Up There, making sure nothing slipped by without his approval. If Lucifer was running things, he’d let the other angels do what they wanted, none of this micromanaging nonsense, but it made Michael happy so he bit his tongue.

Lucifer moved closer to Michael as his brother slept, his fingers ghosting his exposed hip. Michael was always warm to the touch, unlike Lucifer whose hands were always cold. Everything about Michael was warm, Lucifer mused; his personality, his heart, even his vessel. Michael was stern when he needed to be, but he could also be nurturing and sweet, helping the fledglings learn to fly with an encouraging smile on his face. And what was Lucifer? Cold, wretched, harsh. He knew the others were afraid of him, but not Michael, no, he had never been afraid of Lucifer. Even when Lucifer isolated himself, irritated at the world and humanity, Michael would always seek him out, find him, and shake him out of his pathetic tantrum. Lucifer thought Michael was a bit strange, the way he would always come for him, the way he was patient and forgiving. In the back of his mind, Lucifer thought he was lucky to have Michael there for him. Certainly no one else would waste the time, but Michael was different. Bit of an oddball, really.

Lucifer smiled at his brother as he idly pulled at the hem of Michael’s shirt, causing him to stir in his sleep. Lucifer’s hand slipped under his shirt, drawing lazy circles on Michael’s abdomen. Michael mumbled Lucifer’s name, said something about, “s’cold.” Lucifer apologized and was about to withdraw his hand, but Michael shook his head and stopped him.

"Like it.. M’hot…" Michael slurred, eyes still shut.

Lucifer quirked an eyebrow, thinking how strange his brother really was, but he shrugged and continued working his hands up Michael’s shirt, earning an appreciative sigh. Michael was burning up, body heat stealing the coolness of Lucifer’s hands in an instant. His temperature might be alarming in any other case, but Michael was always like this, always burning bright. It’s a wonder that his vessel has lasted this long. Lucifer’s hands trailed up his torso, nails scratching lightly on his skin while his shirt was pulled even higher. He let out a soft moan as Lucifer pulled him closer and mouthed at his neck. Lucifer bit lightly at his pulse, a spot he knew that drove Michael crazy. He blew cold air across the wet spot that he left, making Michael shudder and press closer still. Suddenly Lucifer was on top of him, raising Michael’s arms and pulling his shirt completely off. For the first time since he drifted off to sleep, Michael opened his eyes and gazed up at Lucifer. He opened his mouth to say something, but Lucifer immediately silenced him with a kiss. He knew his brother would say something sweet and loving, but nothing ever needs to be said between them. They could talk until time stopped, but Lucifer preferred to show rather than tell.

He kissed Michael slowly, opening him up, putting everything he could possibly say into that kiss, and Michael took it, kept taking until they were both breathless. Lucifer’s hands resumed their exploration of Michael’s body, their coldness making Michael twitch and shiver every so often. Lucifer was uncommonly patient when it came to teasing his brother like this. He could spend hours, perhaps ages, worshipping his body this way, enjoying every choked moan and plea as if it were music. But Michael had other plans apparently. He grabbed at Lucifer’s shirt incessantly, pulling at it until Lucifer sighed and removed the offending garment. Once it was off, Michael’s hands were back on him, pulling him down so they were skin to skin. This was the only time when Lucifer had more patience than Michael; while Lucifer would take his time in making his brother squirm, relishing in the feel of the skin beneath his hands, Michael was much more eager and demanding, which was why Lucifer enjoyed teasing him. Michael was always so reserved and quiet, but not when Lucifer got him like this. Lucifer loved nothing more than bringing out this side of Michael, make him beg and voice his desires, practically torturing him with touches that were too soft, too fleeting. Oh, how it frustrated Michael, but Lucifer never left him wanting. Lucifer smiled into Michael’s skin as he mouthed at his collarbone as he felt the rest of their clothes being magicked away; Michael’s impatience was growing rapidly, so it seemed.

Holding Michael’s hands above his head, Lucifer pressed him into the mattress, kissing his eagerly awaiting mouth, biting and sucking at his bottom lip. Michael whined when he pulled away and tried half-heartedly to break the hold on his wrists. 

"Now, now, brother," Lucifer smirked as he scolded him. "Isn’t patience supposed to be a virtue?"

Michael was about to voice his frustration when Lucifer rocked his hips, sliding his erection together with Michael’s. His protests caught in his throat and turned into a choked moan. Lucifer kept rolling his hips, rhythm slow and tortuous and driving Michael nearly insane. He loved this, making Michael writhe and moan and curse, something a warrior of Heaven should never be caught doing. Making Michael look at him with such desperation and want, Lucifer would never tire of that. It sent sparks down his spine and warmed that iciness in his veins.

Michael was practically sobbing now, begging for more, and Lucifer decided to take it easy on him just this once. He sped up the motion of his hips, sucked and bit at Michael’s neck, fueled by the lovely noises that were emitting from his mouth. Lucifer whispered in Michael’s ear things that he knew his brother enjoyed but would never dare admit, telling him how he loves the sounds Michael makes and how he should see himself right now and  _come on, Michael, wanna see you come for me_ , and that alone was enough to push Michael over the edge. He cried out Lucifer’s name as he came, body pulsing and trembling, with Lucifer following close behind him. Lucifer slumped on top of Michael, their bodies cleaned in the blink of an eye before they had a chance to stick together. They laid like that for what seemed like an eternity, with Michael’s fingers tangled in Lucifer’s hair, stroking through it, and Lucifer tracing his brother’s skin with a single icy finger. He wouldn’t mind spending eternity like this, Lucifer thought, just the two of them wrapped around each other with no responsibilities or obligations. Just Michael and him, existing together, his brother’s fire to melt his frozen heart. He wouldn’t mind that at all. 


End file.
